What Does It Look Like to Follow Your Intuition?
An invitation to meander a bit today.
Something I’ve been considering lately is how many things I want to do right now and how paralyzing it can be to want so much. I wrote a poem about it because, well, I am me.
It was a short list of all the things I want right now and I love how some of them fell in such a steep contrast to each other - like how I want to both sleep in and also get up early.
How do I balance the two? When do I get up early and when do I let myself sleep in? (And what point of motherhood actually allows for sleeping in?) More over, how do I keep from berating myself on the days I sleep in, thinking maybe I should have gotten up early?
Will I ever stop overthinking so many things?
The worst advice I’ve ever received was to just follow my gut, to trust my intuition. It’s been tangling me up in knots for decades now. When you’ve grown up in a society hellbent on making you conform to the popular standard, trusting yourself isn’t something that comes natural.
If I trusted my gut and followed my intuition, I would…
…ease into the day (as much as my kids will allow it, that is) and I wouldn’t have any deadlines or mandatory to-do lists to track. I’d have ideas and desires to follow and things I wanted to do, but they would be coupled with a confidence of knowing I’d get there, eventually. And that it would all work out in time.
I would meander. I would observe the little things and smile at how the tiny purple wild flowers flourish while the world rushes by. I would write about the things I don’t want to forget, like how my four year old son was sad that he didn’t get to pick dandelions at school yesterday.
I would notice my energy level and respond with nourishing, supportive choices that felt good. I would disregard what society would say about my choices being lazy or selfish or unproductive. I’d let those judgements float away like the light pink petals of cherry blossoms being gently blown off the tree and across the yard.
I’d take pictures of all the things that spark joy and force my lips to curl into a smirk - hold that feeling - click. I’d share them with all of you.
I’d pick up a pen and write poems in a notebook, letting the words overflow from within and onto the page. I’d share them with all of you, too.
I’d allow myself to soak up all the natural beauty and decadence and delight this world has to offer until I couldn’t help but let it spill out and offer a sip to anyone else who, like me, has been dying of thirst for something less bitter than what’s currently being served.
I wouldn’t look away - though - from the vile happenings and deep wounds that surround me. I will see it, be a witness. I won’t pretend it’s not there. I will offer what help I can give. I will share what I can - whatever I have. Because these times need more from me than simply more of what's already there.
I would sit with the sadness and agony and I would cry. I would hold space for what lacks joy and I will allow it to be. I will honor the pain.
And then, I will meander some more. And I will spot the little things that act like medicine to a hurting world and I will soothe my own soul as I go. Maybe yours, too.
That’s what I’d do if I followed my intuition. If I allowed myself to want all the contradicting things.
Today I will try to move slower. To notice. To bear witness. To share all the good things I can find.
Let’s meander.
Other things…
Related reading: Stop outsourcing your intuition by
Other things I’m loving lately: Wake up to your life, babe (and pretty much anything else by)
I’ve written a couple pieces for
recently and it’s been a blast: